Short Tilled Poems
Short Tilled Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Tilled by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Tilled by length and keyword.
Callous rows gone fallow
human touch embraced
Hate uprooted — Love replanted
tilled in Heaven’s grace
(Dreamdleep: February, 2024)
The sun’s nightly journey
Down life’s long rambling road
The picked fields cleaned and tilled
The musky soil still warm
A farm-hand sleeps, dreaming
Of a distant lover
God to Us An Angel Sent
God to us an elegant angel sent;
Wherever we went were diligent;
Tilled and toiled;
Became spoiled;
Improve lives had been His intent.
Jim Horn
Prancing through the fields
Golden sunrays yield;
Raindrops…
Fall from the grayed ceil,
Cloudy teardrops wield,
Pained crops…
Soon to be fulfilled,
Nourished and then tilled;
Good Marks!
No secrets are kept in friendship
all with delight is shared
Life is tilled by time
Abounding love prevails.
This is the naani form : 4 lines with < 14-25> syllables
this one has 25 syllables
A nameless seed
Life’s riddle
Carelessly planted or tilled and cared
Patience eventually heard
An ugly weed, squeamish leaves
A fragrant flower, a painting
An oak tree, towering, majestic, wise
Like a mirror, patience always reveals a truth
not much about the De nada puck pigeons peck the Morse coda bogus devil cant nothing hidden all revealed a cappella slang bell tilled no shelta to rant
I planted my seeds
I tilled the soil plot
Removed skin layers
Unlocked all my locks
I created new friends
I lost some old ones
Prayer and faith remain
God’s working in the dark
Do I celebrate early?
I pray to control pride
True hope should not jinx it
Readying His miracle
An empty grave and a holy coffin
a scent of a vampire’s soul
Leaving a smell of freshly tilled dirt
With an empty soul and broken heart
Thy flowers died long ago withered and without scent
Death was so sweet
and the Vampire has a taste of mortality by feeding off your soul
Form:
Tilled me
Tilled me
Use cutlass
Use engines
I am in abundance
Use me as you will
But keep me
Natural
Keep me organic
Plant plenty of tubers’
Plant plenty of cereals
Plant plenty of bulbs
Plant plenty of suckers
Good harvest
You will have
Food at plenty
Natural food
Food for all.
Today, I planted a seed.
Laboring to follow cycles decreed.
The fertile soil I tilled,
and the water I spilled;
Both blanket my treasure -
an anchor sprouting, I closely measure.
Taking root, it bears stem,
blooming to peak: a potent gem.
Now, the leaves broach to unfurl,
elevating dawn with a blossoming pearl.
She seemed a bit shy sometimes but, deep inside
Carved this image her truth; parthenos genesis, in fertile soil...
Jezabel's gazing from afar envious these eyes, towards she ?
Chosen a garden tilled to bear new fruit; love's awaiting her queen
Resurrection time's promise once lost and she, the seed: bold their brush, golden.
Form:
Rebirth glides -
a bee balm ballerina
with dainty airs
sails soft upon enchanted wisps
of Spirit’s blown kiss..
wandering a nectar network
weaving amid shaggy blooms gilt-tilled..
a dancer in gold dust
her slipper feet
of light and peace
bring blessings of fruition
to wild-garden's frilly lavender fillies
Spirit Vessel Elegy by James Edward Lee Sr.
Decayed lay the vessel, fill with rot;
Derailed and decomposed;
Tilled embalmed yet corpse not;
Dispose of spirit so rose;
It rises you see the truths-self is spies
Soars a Spirit so the Spirit never dies ;
9/19/23
WRITTEN WORDS BY James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
The rose, having
no-longer
place to go…
for even, outside the gardens,
the wild well knows
that beauty, uncultivated,
never grows….
One does not use
soil tilled
by a scalpel;
and bodies of
unborn
to fertilize…
such eyes
cannot blossom
(though the shape
of bulbs)
nor ever produce
for the nose
one fragrance
divinely
pleasing….
The rose, having
no longer
place to go…
for even, outside the gardens,
the wild well knows
that beauty, uncultivated,
never grows….
One does not use
soil tilled
by a scalpel;
and bodies of
unborn
to fertilize…
such eyes
cannot blossom
(though the shape
of bulbs)
nor ever produce
for the nose
one fragrance
divinely
pleasing….
Healing and dealing
Stealing and reeling
Feeling the feeling
Wheelies down the spillway
Three’s a thrill
Another bill
Still...
I will!
Chill, with the window sill,
Skilled at raiding the mills,
Tilled until everyone who wants a chance can dance until-
The rest are nil haikus 4 reiki suing spells four ewe
I’ll hang with Jill ... s
STILL LIFE
They had drained away slowly
sound of hammers,
smell of fresh cut lumber,
voices of hope, chatter of children,
sweet aroma of fresh tilled fertile soil.
Children grown up,
parents grown old,
land grown tired and dry.
All that remains is
the drabness of parched wood
bleeding color on still life fields.
John G. Lawless
4/12/2015
It came in the night, the war
Of the same skies we prayed
Though we pled there came more
Appeals unheard, trust betrayed
Hope’s hope to be lost again
Our dignity’s pride lay bare
In the fields we tilled for grain
Our children all buried there
Our love, our peace was all taken
For what we ask, why oh God why?
How can faith be so forsaken?
By arrogance so gone awry!
The earth is now tilled
I pulled out the weeds
I then made some holes
Then threw in some seed
I looked to the sky
Then prayed for some rain
So flowers will grow
For beauty, to gain
The heavens had opened
Dark clouds all around
I ran for some shelter
The rain hit the ground
Much to my surprise
The flowers then grew
Miracles happen
I believe, do you?
Similar to a
Gentle transition of electrical power
Or
A flash of lightning slamming into the mind
Consciousness-rays permeates
My body and mind
Always and forever...
When ground is tilled,
Philosophies
Religion
Morality
Anthropology
And Sociology
All unite into one harmonious whole. Given the task of assimilating all unauthorized assimilations
Wordless were his words
Yet deeply they pierced
Strongly but softly
Yet fragile and tough
Just like nothing I had known
He tilled and tilled
Until he built himself a throne
'Now who will crown me?'
He said
'No one will crown thee but me'
Came the voiceless voice
But the echoes lingered on
Until the words were enthroned
And the throne made the words whole.
To the treasury note i lost with
I was without exotic notes
Taught in hardened testaments for quote
And speak of troubles i would have
Save the bested efforts tilled by young
Haddingstone and young it was
Countered verse lustra’s bugs
From grand ire back long to nepal
She granted means
Leaving no measures
Destroyer of rain
Remover of wash
Sleeping sees
Ossian’s loss
Creating
If I create with a needle,
You are whispering in my ear,
“Punch here and close again,
Even and neatly, my dear.”
Without You I cannot bake a cake;
For all those You guided before,
Soil tilled, flour milled
Hands and hands galore.
And when I create something
Whether of beauty or amateur,
You created the joy it gives me,
Thank you, my God!
You I adore!
Please walk me into your City
Rain down on me with your love
As I walk down in your city with your liquid flesh touching my feet
Light up my heart like fire flies with yellow flowers above my feet
My hat is tilled, acknowledge me
As my white dress adores you to speak
The sky is lit by the moon while the lamps smiles brightly when you walk past, walk me to my destiny. Welcome me to
your city